


begin again

by its_tortle



Series: stucky one shots [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxious Bucky Barnes, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Blind Date, Brock Rumlow is an asshole, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Coffee Shops, F/M, First Date, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Moving On, One Shot, Oops, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, Scarred Bucky Barnes, Song: Begin Again (Taylor Swift), Steve is wonderful, Steve will give him one, Strangers to Lovers, Unhealthy Relationships, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, because i love them, but it's third person don't worry, but they take it slow, chivalry is not dead as long as steve is around, mention of MUNA, no beta we die like women, though i lowkey dont explain why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_tortle/pseuds/its_tortle
Summary: He walks in, expecting the guy to be late. He'd probably spent more than a year of his life waiting for Brock at every restaurant and subway station in town.Idly, Bucky scans the area as the door closes behind him, pleasantly noting the natural light and the mismatched chairs and art on the walls. He's not at all expecting the wave he catches in the corner of his eye.He follows the movement and promptly finds his brain overrun by static. Because holy shit.Holy. Shit.Nat had described the guy to be ‘tall, blond, and handsome’, but it really didn’t prepare Bucky for the sight before him.ORthe one in which bucky goes to a café on a wednesday and watches love begin again.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past James "Bucky" Barnes/Brock Rumlow, background Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson - Relationship
Series: stucky one shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932520
Comments: 30
Kudos: 214





	begin again

**Author's Note:**

> Hey loviEs!
> 
> i knoW it's bEen a minute since i posted A work heRe, but i just moved and Started uni so i've been Horribly busy adjusting and gEtting usEd to things. i finaLly got around to finishing thiS little wip though, and i caN say i quite like it. i hOpe you do too.
> 
> (this is obviously based on the lovely taylor sWift song 'begin again')

Bucky takes a deep breath in the mirror. He gives himself the uptenth once over and tries to calm his nerves to the best of his ability.

Rationally, he knows he looks good. The jean jacket he’s sporting over a simple gray sweater brings out his eyes, and he’s wearing the black pants that make his ass look good. He’s showered and shaved, tied his hair half up in what appears to be a quick, messy bun but actually took him half an hour, and even flossed this morning. His brain is still nitpicking at the spot on his forehead and scarring on his hand, but he wills it to shut up.

He slips on his black boots, the ones with the slight heel, reminded that Brock never liked when he wore them. Bucky does.

With one more steadying breath and what he hopes is an encouraging smile at himself in the mirror, he leaves his apartment and closes the door behind him. He turns the lock and puts his headphones on, clicks shuffle on his newest playlist.

MUNA’s ‘Good News’ begins to blare through his speakers at a probably unhealthy volume as he descends the stairs, which is just the encouragement he needs right then. Brock never got the song, said it was weird and depressing, but it speaks to Bucky of a lovely cautious optimism.

It’s what he wishes he felt right now.

When Nat had first tried to set him up with her new boyfriend’s best friend, Bucky had vehemently protested meeting him. Set-ups were always stupid, and after his last heartbreak Bucky had lost most of his faith in men and love altogether, even though he used to be a hopeless romantic. But Nat had been bridging it up for a solid three months now and Bucky’s therapist says that even if it doesn’t pan out, going on a date is essential to moving on. It had been eight months after all, and Bucky reluctantly has to admit that he misses sex, and also, even more reluctantly, love.

Both Nat and her aforementioned boyfriend Sam had spoken very highly of this Steve guy, called him the farthest from an emotionally abusive asshole there was, so Bucky repeatedly told himself that him going for a goddamned coffee with this man was not going to mean that he ended up back at square one.

So, Bucky has the cautious down, but he’s a little short on the optimism.

When he gets out of the subway after a short four stops -- “He’s also from Brooklyn! You guys can exchange weird niche stories about your childhoods!” --, he finds the coffee shop Sam had told him about remarkably quickly. It's only a few steps from the subway exit and is easily recognizable with its big windows and golden yellow sign.

He walks in, expecting the guy to be late. He'd probably spent more than a year of his life waiting for Brock at every restaurant and subway station in town.

Idly, Bucky scans the area as the door closes behind him, pleasantly noting the natural light and the mismatched chairs and art on the walls. He's not at all expecting the wave he catches in the corner of his eye. 

He follows the movement and promptly finds his brain overrun by static. Because holy shit.

_Holy. Shit._

Nat had described the guy to be ‘tall, blond, and handsome’, but it really didn’t prepare Bucky for the sight before him. 

The guy, _Steve_ , his mind helpfully supplies now that he actually cares (just a bit), is an at least 6’2’’ wall of muscle with an absolutely ridiculous shoulder to waist ratio, arms bigger than Bucky’s torso, and a jaw that has to have been sculpted by God himself. He looks like he bench presses cars in his free time, but somehow doesn’t have the look of a steroid-induced gym bro, and instead looks beauteous, graceful, like a renaissance statue.

And when Bucky gets (sort of) past ogling all that, he gets a real look at the guy’s face and finds himself confronted with the fact that even with all that beefcake going on, Steve is _pretty._ His blond hair is golden and falling into his eyes a bit, which shine a warm blue even from where Bucky is standing nearly ten feet away. There’s a gorgeous blush from the tips of his ears down to his high cheekbones, and his lips are curled in a small, but sincere smile.

_Jesus fucking Christ._

How is Bucky supposed to keep hating men when there’s one that looks like _that?_

Finally shaking himself out of what must have been a creepy stare, Bucky attempts a friendly smile. He walks to him.

“Bucky,” he introduces himself. “You must be Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes with a smile. He luckily doesn’t seem too weirded out by the long, starey pause.

They stand in silence for a moment just looking at each other, and Bucky’s brain can’t quite seem to remember how to interact with someone like a normal person. Standing right in front of him, Bucky can see that there’s a bit of green in the blue of Steve’s eyes.

“Do you want coffee?”, Steve asks then with a vague motion to the counter and menus to his left. His eyes never leave Bucky’s face.

Bucky manages a nod and a smile.

They get in the blissfully short line in front of the long counter and both seem to ease out of their initial awkwardness. They exchange cordial small talk as they wait for their coffees -- the subway ride, the cold weather that spring, and the nice decor of the coffee shop -- and Bucky is surprised to note that it isn’t stilted and awkward, though small talk usually is.

They grab their coffees and a number for the bagels they ordered and choose a table by the window, looking out onto the street. The view is nice, sunny and urban, but without the intense stress of the city bustling right outside the doors. 

Steve pulls Bucky’s chair out and helps him in, not condescendingly, but with a gentle coradiality. He doesn’t know how nice he’s being, but Bucky does.

“So,” Steve starts when he takes a seat himself, across from Bucky. “Sam says you’re from Brooklyn too.”

Bucky allows himself a smile. “Yeah. Brownsville, mostly. Though I had some family in Bushwick.”

Steve grins, and it’s devastating. His whole face transforms from classically handsome to unbearably cute, and Bucky can’t decide if he wants to punch or kiss him. “I’m from Bushwick,” he says. “My ma was Irish, but she moved us there when I was just a baby, so it’s all I ever knew.”

“Do you still live there now?”, Bucky finds himself asking. He hadn’t planned on being genuinely interested in this date, but the question comes out before he can think to stop it.

“I’m in Williamsburg now. Just a couple blocks from where I grew up, but enough to be a different district.”

“So you’re a hipster,” Bucky can’t help but joke. “I should’ve known as soon as you ordered that salmon bagel.”

Steve throws his head back laughing like a little kid. Bucky can’t help but find it strange that Steve thinks he’s funny, even with a lame joke like the one he just made. Brock never did.

The conversation moves on from there, to school experiences and childhood hang out spots and favorite foods. 

A waitress brings the bagels to them. Both Steve and Bucky find them to be delicious.

As they gradually eat away at their bagels, Bucky discovers that Steve is talkative, passionate, and endlessly endearing, but never obnoxious about it. He’s polite in a pleasantly old-fashioned, chivalrous way, and gives Bucky his full attention without being overbearing. Content to just listen to Steve’s stories and watch his expressive hands gesticulate, Bucky remains comparatively quiet, eats and sips his coffee. The warmth of the beverage travels down his throat to join the ever-growing bubble of heat behind his sternum that he doesn’t dare explore.

“Sam loves to call me a grandpa,” Steve is saying just as Bucky finishes the first half of his bagel. “But that’s mostly just because I wore khakis _once_ and like Sinatra too much.”

Bucky quirks up. “You like Sinatra?”

Steve’s eyes light up as he gives an affirmative nod. “Yeah. Do you?”

“I genuinely own twenty-three of his records,” Bucky blurts. Immediately he wishes he could take it back. He did not need to air out his weird 40s vinyl obsession on this first date. “It’s just ‘cause I grew up spending weekends at my grandma’s and she was, like, obsessed with him. I inherited a bunch from her and I just-” He gestures vaguely.

“That’s amazing,” Steve grins before Bucky can keep embarrassing himself by trying to explain it. “I’ve never met a guy who owned as many Sinatra records as I do.”

Bucky blushes a bit, and surprises himself by putting on a smirk that feels suspiciously like the old Bucky. “You also own twenty-three?” 

Steve smirks back, his eyes twinkling. “Can’t say I’ve counted.”

“Yeah, it’s probably weird that I have.”

At that, Steve throws his head back laughing again. One of his large, artistic hands grabs at his left pec when he does, and Bucky almost chokes on his bagel for some goddamn reason.

Steve launches into another anecdote, this one about an unfortunate incident with a record when he was seven, and Buck watches him with a smile. 

It occurs to him that Steve has no idea why he’s coming off a little shy, though Bucky does.

He can’t imagine Nat would have told Steve anything without consent, which he didn’t give, so Steve might think Bucky’s just generally quiet. That isn’t usually the case much at all, and Bucky begins to spiral into wondering whether Steve likes this Bucky better, if he likes him at all. Maybe if Bucky felt more like himself, acted more like himself, Steve wouldn’t be smiling at him like that.

But he is smiling at him, so warm and open and almost reverential that Bucky has to look away for fear of breaking too many walls down at once. He’s not used to this, the pleasant glow of positive attention and the easy conversation that feels more natural than breathing. 

Bucky is convinced that love sucks, that it just hurts, but Steve is reminding him of the other part, the part that almost makes it worth it. 

It’s the flutter in his stomach, the warmth in his gut. It’s the fact that he’s already addicted to the way Steve laughs and how Steve makes _him_ laugh when it seems like he isn’t even trying. It’s the way that the sunlight is angled into the shop so that Steve’s hair shines golden and his eyes light up, and the little freckle on his left cheek. It’s the way that underneath that immaculately sculpted body that Bucky can’t lie and say he isn’t thinking about, there’s a man that Bucky wants to know better, wants to know everything there is to know about.

The realization has Bucky wishing he ordered an Irish coffee, but instead he finishes his latte and tries to write this influx of emotions off as good news.

This is moving on, and it’s healthy, and it feels nice. Nicer, somehow, than it ever felt with Brock.

Bucky starts to speak up a little more, tells stories about Becca and his job as an engineer at a start-up. He lets Steve coo at his lockscreen of Alpine and doesn’t comment on Steve’s worried look as he flicks his eyes down to the scarring on Bucky’s hand. He brushes it with his own as he hands the phone back, and even with Bucky’s damaged nerve endings, a spark travels up past his elbow, then into his shoulder and down his spine.

He gives Steve a little smile as a means of apology for not telling him about what happened. Steve smiles back easily.

When the time comes to pay some time later, Steve insists on taking care of the bill. He’s stubborn, Bucky finds, but it’s far more endearing than it is obnoxious.

He holds the door open for Bucky as they step out into the April sun and offers to walk him to the Blue Line even though he needs the orange one. Bucky lets him.

The air is even warmer than it was when they met, so they each take off their jackets. Bucky tries hard not to stare at the bulging biceps underneath Steve’s long-sleeved shirt, but fails. The smile that Steve gives him is almost bashful, like he wasn’t expecting it, and when Bucky looks back over at him a few moments later, there’s a lovely shade of pink dusting his cheekbones.

They walk down the block to the subway station, and Bucky almost thinks to bring Brock up and explain his initial timidness and reluctance to meet Steve in the first place, but then Steve starts to talk about the movies he watched every Christmas growing up and Bucky wants to talk about that. 

So they talk about the Grinch and “It’s a Wonderful Life”, and laugh when they recall their favorite scenes of “Elf”. Neither of them bring up that it’s April.

And as they round the corner and Bucky nearly bumps into a stranger, Steve easily loops an arm around his waist to shield him from the collision and Bucky thinks that for the first time, what’s past is past. Steve’s hand is warm and steady, and it lingers for just a second before it falls away.

Bucky notes with surprise that he wants it back. 

The pair slow to a stop when they reach the steps of the subway station, the conversation dwindling down into a slightly uncertain silence. They move to the side to avoid the crowd emerging from the tunnel.

“I had a really nice time,” Steve tells Bucky with a sincere smile. 

“Me too,” Bucky breathes, because against all odds, he did.

“Could we do this again sometime?”

He swallows. 

There’s a part of him, a stupid, dark part of his brain that wants to find a way to turn Steve down gently and crawl back home to his cat and his Sinatra records. But then he looks up at Steve and his big shoulders and ocean eyes and kind smile, and wills that part of his brain to shut up. 

“I’d like that.”

Steve grins brightly, stars in his eyes, and Bucky can’t help but return it. They both just stare for a moment. The thought crosses Bucky’s mind, sudden and unbidden, that he never wants to look at anything else now that he’s seen Steve and his gorgeous face.

Bucky forces himself to avert his eyes. “I should go.”

Steve doesn’t respond for a moment, then shakes himself out of something. “You have my number?”

Bucky nods, smiles a little smile.

Steve looks like he wants to say something then, opens his mouth silently a few times, then just looks down at his long fidgeting fingers. He looks back up at Bucky through his ridiculously long eyelashes like he doesn't even realize he’s doing it.

Hearing the subway arrive beneath him, Bucky makes the split-second decision and places his right hand on Steve’s shoulder, leverage for reaching up and placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.

The skin is just slightly scruffy beneath his lips, and Bucky is so close that for just a moment his senses are filled with Steve and all of his warmth and his strength and his smell. Bucky resists the urge to hover for longer than appropriate and pulls back to shoot Steve one last smile before he descends the stairs.

When he looks up just before the tunnel, he finds Steve looking back at him with a radiant smile and tinted cheeks, giving him a dorky little wave. Bucky returns it.

He’s spent the last eight months believing that love does nothing but break, and burn, and fall apart. But that Wednesday, on a sunny spring day in a Brooklyn coffeeshop, he watched it begin again.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos make me smile and comments make my whole damn week, so please don't be shy.
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://tumblr.com/blog/its-tortle) for some stucky edits and a whole lot of reblogging, if you want. 🐢


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